


Birthday Surprise

by LadyDrace



Series: Junk Ficlets from Tumblr [21]
Category: Supernatural
Genre: Birthday Sex, Established Relationship, Lingerie, M/M, Panties, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Sam In Panties, Stockings
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-05-07
Updated: 2014-05-07
Packaged: 2018-01-23 22:23:19
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,901
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1581566
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LadyDrace/pseuds/LadyDrace
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Sam surprises Gabriel with a sexy birthday present.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Birthday Surprise

**Author's Note:**

> Wrote this as a birthday present for my dear, sweet [Brooke](http://rivertem.tumblr.com/) who turned 21! LOVE YOU, BABE!

When Sam and Gabriel started dating seriously, they set up a system. Or really, it was just a sincere promise to always have each other's back. A simple text of SOS would mean that the recipient would drop everything and get to the sender as soon as humanly possible, only to be used for extreme emergencies. In their three years of dating and one of those living together, it had only been used twice. Once for when Gabriel broke an ankle and once for the time that Lucifer decided to drop by drunk while Sam was home alone.

 

So when Gabriel receives the SOS at the end of an average work day he drops everything and rushes home. Chuck shakes his head at him as he races by, and Pamela laughs at him. Fuckers, all of them. Sam could be dying in a pool of his own blood while they're snickering.

 

Gabriel bursts through the door of their house barely ten minutes later, gasping for breath.

 

“Sam?!” he shouts, and slumps down with immediate relief when he gets a perfectly calm “in the bedroom,” reply. So no one is dying, presumably. He still rushes to the bedroom, though, but stops dead so hard he probably looks like a mime ramming into an invisible barrier.

 

“What...” he peeps out weakly, because as far as he can tell there's no life or death situation here, though he would argue that it's definitely some kind of crisis.

 

Sam is on the bed, perfectly relaxed and comfortable, and... wearing lingerie. _Delicate_ lingerie. Sheer, lightly patterned white stockings, clipped to a matching garter with tiny lace frill trimmings. Pale pink panties – obviously made for a more male consumer, but no less feminine for the extra room – and a matching bra, of the less-cup-more-cling sort, but definitely still a bra. Sam's strong thighs are hugged beautifully by the stockings, the fabric shimmering in the light as he shifts, and sweet stars above, they're hairless. He _shaved_ for this.

 

“Erm. Sorry,” Sam says, his cheeks blotchy. “Happy birthday?”

 

“M-my birthday isn't until Thursday,” Gabriel stutters, his brain a huge mess of lusty chaos, because _wow_ , he's overloading on how hot everything looks.

 

“I know. Surprise?” Sam's muscles flex as he holds out his hands, making the bra scrunch slightly, showing off his shaved chest, and Gabriel honest to god _whimpers_.

 

He'd mentioned it _once_ , almost two years ago, pretty much mid-orgasm, that Sam would look so fucking pretty in lace, and not only did Sam remember, he went _all the fucking way_.

 

As Gabriel stands there, dumb as a post, staring and trying not to faint from how fast his blood cascades south, Sam fidgets more and more. “Is this... okay?” he asks finally, obviously worried that he's fucked up somehow.

 

“Oh God,” Gabriel blurts, breath rushing out of him. “Fuck yes, this is so okay it's... I have no words for how okay this is, holy shit. I'm just... are you real right now?!”

 

A wicked gleam twinkles in Sam's eyes, and _fuck_ , Gabriel knows that look. “Maybe you should come over here and check for yourself,” he says, voice low and hot. Gabriel stumbles into the room clumsily, because how is he supposed to work complicated things like _feet_ when he's got a feast like this spread out in front of him?

 

He crawls onto the bed, but ends up hovering hesitantly on hands and knees, completely unable to decide where to even start. Sam seems to catch on, because he sits up until they're nose to nose, and nuzzles Gabriel so gently he shivers from it.

 

“Do you want me to take the lead?” he murmurs, and Gabriel nods helplessly, because as much as he adores Sam for this surprise, he's still stunned, and struggling to make even a simple choice like what to touch first. Sam making the choices for him is a relief, and he lets out a shuddery sigh as Sam takes his hand and places it gently on his thigh.

 

Gabriel touches the sheer fabric reverently, feeling the powerful leg muscle flex under his hand, and he traces the laced edge of the stocking so gently that Sam's skin goosebumps in the wake of his fingers.

 

“Jesus Christ, Sam, I don't-” he cuts off to swallow dryly, and Sam – bless him – knows exactly what Gabriel needs.

 

“Shh,” he whispers. “Let me. It's your birthday, after all. You shouldn't have to lift a finger.” He undresses Gabriel slowly, taking the time to kiss every inch of skin as it's revealed, and Gabriel shivers and shudders and loves Sam so fiercely for knowing him so well and so happily taking care of him. His eyes dart all over, trying to take everything in at once, and Sam smiles hotly at him, so much promise in his entire presence that Gabriel barely knows how to bear it.

 

Soon enough he's naked, and he lets Sam roll him over onto his back and straddle him in all his lace-clad glory. He takes Gabriel's hands and places them on his hips, the patterned garter tickling his fingertips and Sam's heat seeping through the fabric.

 

Sam is hard, and not even the male-friendly panties can conceal that level of enthusiasm. So Gabriel stares, and possibly drools a little, which only makes Sam grin, because he's an asshole that way, and he knows very well how he looks.

 

“You can touch, you know,” Sam practically purrs, undulating slightly so the satin rubs maddeningly against Gabriel's own cock, already leaking profusely.

 

“I know,” Gabriel says, and does nothing. He's pretty sure he's forgotten how to even move anything except his eyes, which dart around, not settling on one thing for more than a second.

 

Despite the staring, Sam still asks: “Should I get naked?”

 

Gabriel shakes his head so hard his neck twinges. “No! No, _God,_ no. This is... oh _wow_.”

 

And that's apparently all the endorsement Sam needs before getting down to business, slipping downwards enough for them to line up, only thin, damp satin between them, and start thrusting slowly and deliberately. Gabriel makes a pathetic noise and clings to Sam's hips, because it feels like he might float away if he doesn't hold on to something.

 

“Sam! Sam, _oh fuck_ , Sam,” Gabriel babbles, quaking where he's caught between Sam's strong thighs, the lace scratching his hips where Sam's knees press in.

 

Gabriel is easy. He doesn't need inventive positions or complicated scenarios – though they are appreciated – and he groans, heartfelt and deep as Sam pushes against him, faster and harder until the satin chafes. But the zing of too much friction is good in its own way, and Gabriel thrusts up to meet every push, desperate and racing towards the end, already on edge just from the view. Sam's hair is falling around his face, locks curling as he sweats, and the first thing Gabriel manages to do on his own steam is to reach up and fist his hand in them and pull Sam down for a filthy kiss. It's always a challenge because of their height difference, and Sam slips down too far for them to maintain the delicious contact. He whines, but kisses back with equal fervor, rubbing himself on Gabriel's thigh instead.

 

“You should fuck me,” he mouths against Gabriel's lips, and all he can do is nod weakly in response and dive in for another kiss. Sam lets him for a long, hot moment before he sits up again, raising up on his knees and turning around, straddling Gabriel again, this time facing his feet. Gabriel is confused for a second, but then Sam reaches back, slips two thumbs under the lace edge of the panties and slides them down slowly. Gabriel very nearly blacks out, because Sam is wearing a tiny, silver plug, so small it wasn't visible through the panties, but he must have been wearing it for a while, his hole clenched tight around it.

 

He bends over onto hands and knees, and even arches back towards Gabriel slightly, as if he wasn't already going crazy from the view at arm's length. “Take it out,” Sam orders. “Make me ready.” And well, Gabriel's hands might be shaking, but he's always been very good at following sexy orders. So he eases out the plug, meeting surprisingly little resistance, which means Sam must have prepped himself before Gabriel came home, and _stars above_ , Gabriel might come all over himself before any fucking even happens.

 

But Sam is nodding at the side table where lube is thoughtfully already laid out, and Gabriel knows this dance well enough to do it with his eyes closed. Not that he _would_ , the view being what it is, _holy shit_.

 

Two fingers slide in with no resistance, three with not much more, and Sam pulls away from him again before he can get distracted and forget about the fucking all-together, because beautiful, amazing Sam knows all too well that if he doesn't get to do this now, he'll regret it later. He can finger Sam to his heart's content after, when he's open and used. Gabriel really loves that, and the thought of his come staining the inside of those dainty panties as it leaks out of Sam is a powerful enough thought that he has to breathe deeply to get himself back under control.

 

Sam knows that too, and waits patiently, pulling the panties back up while he breathes. But as soon as he's eased off the brink, he slathers Gabriel's cock in too much lube, pulls the crotch of the panties aside this time instead, and takes him in without preamble. The sound Gabriel makes is probably audible three houses away.

 

There's a filthy, wet noise as Sam seats himself deeply, and there are slick stains all over the panties, Sam's hands leaving shiny smears where they clutch his own thighs for support as he raises up and sits back down, taking Gabriel deep and sure.

 

“Fuck, Sam, _fuck_ ,” is all Gabriel can say, and he does, staring at the mess they're making and loving every moment of it. Sam is in a world of his own. He always is when he's being fucked, and he soon picks up the pace, chasing his pleasure, and using Gabriel as plainly as he probably intended for Gabriel to use _him_. But Gabriel is infinitely happy with this turn of events, and he keens pitifully, fingers turning white on Sam's hips as he comes, making everything even more wet and filthy. Sam groans and slams his hips down harder, small spatters of come and lube flicking up Gabriel's stomach from the force of it, and when he follows Gabriel over the brink shortly after, he clenches so hard that Gabriel slips out, followed by a small, filthy gush of come.

 

Gabriel feels ridiculously happy lying there, covered in sweat and mess, but it gets even better when Sam gingerly lifts himself off and turns around so Gabriel can get a good look at how he ruined his nice lingerie. Because the panties _are_ ruined, beyond repair, wet through at the front and scrunched up and slicked at the back.

 

“Wow,” Gabriel breathes and stares some more.

 

“Happy birthday,” Sam pants, grinning like the fucking canary-snatching cat that he is, and Gabriel feels like his face will split in two from how widely he smiles back.

 

End.


End file.
